‘Focus,’ Roul said as he mounted his horse.
She turned to her own mount and gave him a soothing pat. ‘We’ve got this.’ Then she climbed up into the saddle, shivering from the cold and anticipation. She rode over to the rope and took hold of it, then clicked her tongue as she nudged her horse forwards. She thought she was ready, but when the cold water hit her bare feet, it felt like a thousand needles stabbing her at once. She shuddered, legs squeezing as the water climbed her calves. Her hand slid along the rope as her horse took panicked steps, suddenly in a rush to get to the other side.
‘Slowly,’ Roul said behind her.
Eda was trying—and failing.
She gripped the rope tighter when the gelding turned at an angle, losing the fight against the current. Next thing she knew, the horse was pulled out from beneath her, swept away, leaving Eda dangling from the rope with water pelting her. Roul was beside her a moment later, dragging her over the neck of his horse.
‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘Don’t you let go.’
It was not a matter of strength but getting her body to cooperate. She could not feel a thing below the waist. Every time Roul tried to lift her onto the saddle, the current pulled her down again. The horse began to turn sideways, as Eda’s had done, but Roul managed to straighten it with his legs. It was too much weight for the animal. Eda knew it. Roul knew it.
She reached for the rope, but Roul immediately tried to pull her back.
‘It’s too much,’ she told him.
Dismounting, he guided Eda to the saddle. Her legs would not cooperate, and she kept slipping off it. Finally, she got one leg over and looked to Roul. He gave her an encouraging nod.
‘Go. I’ll be right behind you.’
She gathered up the reins in one hand and took hold of the rope with the other, digging her heels into the horse’s sides. She moved slowly, eyes darting between the riverbank and Roul, who was right up against the horse’s rump. It was fine. He was fine. They were almost there.
No sooner had she had that thought than she heard Blackmane shout, ‘Look out!’
She looked back just as an enormous branch went sailing into Roul. Somehow, he managed to keep hold of the rope, but his head was underwater. Eda reached for the branch, trying to pull it off him. To her horror, Roul’s hand slipped from the rope.
‘Roul!’
He popped up, gasping for air as he clung to the branch she was holding. Eda felt the horse lean as they were pulled by the weight. Then he disappeared beneath the water again. She needed to get him out. She tried to kick the horse forwards, to pull him to safety, but every time the horse took a step forwards, it was followed by a step back.
Blackmane was now knee deep in the water, holding the rope with one hand and reaching for the horse with the other.
‘Go!’ Eda screamed at the horse in frustration.
Roul surfaced with a gasp, and when their eyes met, a bad feeling filled her. She shook her head.No.
Then Roul let go of the branch.
She might have screamed if her lungs were not frozen. She watched in horror as he was dragged down into the water and carried away from her.
‘Shit,’ Blackmane said, grabbing hold of the bridle and tugging the horse forwards. Finally, her legs left the river, the excruciating pain reducing to a dull ache. Eda’s gaze never shifted from the water though, searching for him.
The moment she was safely on land, Blackmane took off at a run downstream. Eda sat atop the horse, teeth chattering so hard she thought they might come loose in her mouth. When she was able, she slid from the saddle, her legs giving out beneath her. She used the stirrup to pull herself upright.
On the other side of the river, the other defenders were searching for Roul amid the rocks and white water. She desperately wanted to look for him but needed to wait for feeling to return to her legs. She leaned against the horse for what felt like half an hour but was probably only ten minutes, staring at the bend in the river, willing Roul to appear. She refused to cry, refused to show weakness after Roul had shown so much courage. He had let go so she could exit the water and be the soldier he had trained her to be.
She punched her thigh, relieved to feel pins and needles. It was better than numbness.
Just as she was taking her first few tentative steps, she looked up and spotted two men rounding the bend on her side of the river. One of them was Blackmane, and the other was a living and breathing Roul. As if that sight alone was not magical enough, trailing behind him was her horse.
Eda bent and held on to her knees, eyes closing for a moment as relief gripped her. She straightened with the bravest face she could manage, taking slow steps towards him. He watched her the entire walk, right up until the moment he took hold of her face. His hands were ice.
‘You hurt?’ he asked.
She shook her head, but the strength of his grip prevented the action from being effective.
His fingers eased, but then his hands fell away. He turned to the men on the other side of the river, who were now walking back in the other direction. ‘There’s a sandbank fifty yards downstream! Move the rope! Blackmane will show you where to cross!’ He took Eda’s hand and began walking. ‘Come. We need to build a fire and get you warm.’ When she did not move, he turned back to her. ‘What’s wrong?’
